


Team Building

by Miffy_Liu



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-07
Updated: 2019-11-12
Packaged: 2021-01-24 16:26:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21341215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miffy_Liu/pseuds/Miffy_Liu
Summary: Or “five times Alastor protects his fellows and one time his fellows protect him.”
Comments: 66
Kudos: 584





	1. Niffty

**Author's Note:**

> Considering that Alastor is asexual, I decided to not ship anyone with Al in this fandom (what?)  
First language is not English so feel free to correct me

Niffty was confused when the gray-hair lady—was her name Vaggie? She couldn’t remember—dragged her to a corner of the hotel and warned her about Al. The lady was irritated, cross-eye glowed every time she mentioned Al’s name, and she kept asking Niffty that had Al tortured her before the hotel acquaintance. 

Niffty said no, of course. Al is good, kind, and is so friendly to everyone. Why would anyone think that Al would torture her? Al only tortures demons who break the rules or are disrespectful to him, but every other demon would do the same and even more violent. Being tangled by tentacles is one of the mildest way of torturing, the lady should see what did those nobles do to demon civilians when they talked shit about them.

The lady seemed doubtful about her answer and was obviously trying to dig more information out of her, so she ran away and kept sweeping the hotel with her duster. She had no time to sit down and perform a speech about how nice Al is and neither did she want to. Al would do a good job with or without the lady’s trust, so why bother?

But that can’t stop Niffty from remembering how nice Al treated her in the past comparing to other demons while she cleaned. She met him in an alley of a street, when she had just been kicked out by other demon kids and had been sleeping inside a discarded garbage bin for a week. They called her freak because of her passion to clean and organize stuffs. To them, webs and spiders are exactly what they want as a decoration of the house, a tidy corner lessen the scariness of the house and gives a weak and sissy impression to the house owner. 

It was a rainy day, and it was cold. She was sobbing for the hunger and coldness when she heard a gentle tap on the opening side of the bin.

“Knock, knock?” That voice wasn’t distorted back then, so what she heard was a voice of a mid-age demon, low and smooth. Never had a demon talked to her like that.

“Who’s there?” Her voice was trembled and small, she could barely feel her hands under such cold temperature. She pinched her hands with her nails to stable her voice and asked again, trying to sound strong and scary.

“Alastor. May I come in?” The voice was still moderate.

She hesitated for a while before deciding to open the bin. The demon can be hostile, yes; but if he is hostile he would not waste time to knock her door, right? Her door wasn’t even locked—it’s a lid of trash bin. So he must’ve want something from her, but she had nothing to lose besides her life.

She then realized that the voice was respectfully waiting for her decision outside the bin the whole time she was struggling to make her move, and it was cold and windy outside. No demon would do that just to hurt a worthless little demon.

So be it. “Come in.” She replied, watched the deer demon lifted the lid and crawled himself inside the bin. His antlers were sharp, so he moved with a hand covering the tip of his antlers to prevent them from leaving scratch on the top of the bin. He sat down beside her with his furry ears folded to and the antler nearly touching the ceiling, yet he said nothing about the discomfort. 

Niffty quietly observed him as Alastor took off his monocle and brushed it. He looked much younger and smaller than what he looks now with his hair drenched by water and stuck to his skin. Water slid from his hairline to his pointy jaw, painted a stain on his suit. The rain ruined the cloth, but Niffty can still see the worth of it from delicate patterns and glossy fabric. Did he forget his umbrella? He must be freezing.

The demon slipped the monocle into his shirt pocket and offered his right hand, “thank you so much miss. And again, Alastor, pleasure to meet you.” His smile was small but real, not showing teeth. He greeted Niffty in the eye shake her hand. His gaze was calm and clear, and surprisingly, Niffty didn’t see any contempt or hostility in that brilliant red pupils. He looked at Niffty the way Niffty looked at newborn cats and dogs: care, adore. It’s hard to imagine a demon having such soft emotions. A wave of warmth traveled from Alastor’s glove to her hand, her heart, down to her spine, and Niffty suddenly felt safe again, with an unreasonable growing trust towards the stranger. 

Alastor drew back the hand, turned and looked at the window Niffty managed to install on the side of the bin. The window was composed of glasses she picked up from trash. It was nowhere near transparent due to unfixable cracks, but Alastor stared at it as if he can see the outside world through the frosted glass. His gaze was distant, like a ten-year-old glancing at passengers outside of his dad’s car window.

His face was blank, absent even. He wasn’t smiling anymore. 

He seemed lonely.

For nearly a minute neither of them said anything, just listening to the sound of dropping rain in comforting silence. But Alastor soon realized the pool he formed under his body. 

“Merde! That is very rude of me, I’ll fix it right now, don’t worry.” The absent gaze was gone, and the fake grin appeared with sharp yellow teeth. She watched Alastor as he dried himself with a finger snap, silently handed him her sleeping blanket. 

The inside of trash bin was tidy, or as tidy as Niffty could get. But tidy could not help with the problem of coldness. She was wearing the blanket to stay warm, but apparently the demon needed it too.

“What? Oh…thank you dear, but I don’t need this, take care of yourself.” For a brief moment, Alastor looked amazed, but soon the expression was buried in the cross-face smile and radio voice. He kneeled up slightly to rawly wrapped her with the blanket which he just upgraded by a snap. 

Niffty’s eye was instantly filled with tears when the icy air was no longer peeling her skin and freezing her blood. They were completely blocked by this cozy fluffy sheet of heaven. She tried to thank him but her throat was hoarse due to the dry air. Yet somehow he understood her unspoken words, eased his hand through her messy pink hair. Niffty leaned to his shoulder without a word.

Finally she said, “What do you want me to do?” I’ll do it for you.

“Do you want to come with me? I plan to form a team, and a charming lady like you is exactly what we need.” The voice was real at the first sentence, then quickly shifted to radio channel voice as if the speaker was trying to hide his intention. He failed.

“I can teach you how to make friends, fight enemies, maximize your talent…” More words are coming out of the gentlemen’s mouth, but Niffty cared no more. She reached and shook his hand with a single word, “Deal.” Green light blasted between them and deal was made.

“...I didn’t even ask your name, missy.” Alastor’s voice was a bit dazed, clearly not expecting the deal.

“I don’t have a name.”

“Well…how about Niffty? It’s a homonym for pretty and neat*.”

……

It wasn’t until decades after that day did Niffty finally know the truth from other demon’s description: it was the day Alastor claimed his territory and broadcasted his massacre to the hell. He must be exhausted after the genocide that he didn’t even have the energy to obstruct the rain or teleport home. Hell, he must be too tired to even walk after fighting all those demons. Searching for a temporary shelter was a logical option to avoid hunters and hyenas who were waiting for Alastor to show his weakness.

She could not figure out the reason he brought her home though, and she decided to not think about it. She was thankful enough to keep herself from wondering these meaningless questions.

“Hey Al, can you pop me up to that roof? All the cute little bugs and webs are hiding there and I cannot wait to meet them!”

“Sure thing! Watch your steps missy—and we’re going aboard!” Al laughs, carries her over the roof, lands right on the dirtiest spot of the ceiling.

She hugs Al’s waist with all her love and strength before turning back to chase the insects hidden on the roof. 

She still loves cleaning, and will keep loving it in the future. She also loves Al now, the demon who protected her, saved her from the fate of freezing death. He is evil, sly, untrustworthy, but he has his morals, and is comparatively more civilzed than demons who kill for fun. Honestly, what can you ask more of a demon?

She saw what Al did to his enemies, and she also knew that Al will probably not be redeemed, not ever. But that’s ok, she will always stand by his side.

Ch. Niffty END

*Nifty stands for pretty and neat


	2. Husk

Husk would never admit it was Alastor who saved him from death. No, _he_ saved Alastor from getting himself killed. Countless times. But one can say it was Alastor who encouraged him to unravel the use of his wings, and ultimately protected his wings from being tore off from his back.

When Alastor first met him, he was diving in the abandoned bottles in the alley at back of the bar, trying to find a piece that may has some liquor in it. He was blacklisted by every bar and casino around and was craving for a morning sip.

The sky was not yet redden, the alley was dark. Two shadows were approaching him from another side of the alley as he kept searching for a possible drink. The conversation eventually flew into his ears as shadows got closer. He glanced at the talking shadows for a sec before diving back to the bottles. None of his business.

“You can’t just kill anyone who disagrees with you! The blood will never wash out!”

“That’s why the suit is red, my dear.”

It wasn’t long before Husk picked up the sickening smell of clotted blood and dried organs and realized that the walking demons just committed a massacre. The girl voice was complaining, the man voice was carelessly replying. Husk reluctantly dragged his attention from the bottles to the demons. His instinct told him that the man was a hard nut to crack, but who gives a fuck, he could slice any demon in half within a bare second. He simply needed to know why did he come and why did he smell like a dated bodybag.

The shorter demon was puny so he ignored it. The taller demon was wearing a black—no, dark red suit. It’s hard to tell because it was soaked in blood of different colors; some already dried, some were still dripping blood onto the ground. The antlers were enormous, forked and entangled above the demon’s head, like two askew branches grew out of a black tree. Some unnameable organs were hanging on the antlers. They swang with each step the demon took. The face of the demon was covered in blood too, but the creepy teethy smile and the monocle were iconic enough for him to recognized his identity.

Alastor, the new star of hell and the new king of southeast pentagram. He slaughtered the former king and broadcasted it through radio, then quickly built up his reputation by eliminating every rebellious demons in his territory.

So it was the end of another massive killing, considered that he had not fully shifted from demonic to human form. Nothing to do with him. Husk didn’t give a shit about the politics and the new king. All he cared about was a mouthful of beer to sober him up. He’s been falling asleep in the bar lately, being thrown out of the door and waking up at the back alley. It was a perfect circulation of money: he won the money from those pathetic losers, then threw them all on chip and scotch. Things had been tough since every owner of casino put a restrict sign of him on the door. 

He had to find an alternative to dig those coins and bills from other demons’ filthy hands and serve himself a decent drink. Robbing was a tempting choice, but better not to start with the hardest bone to bite. He was confident with his power, but was also perceptive enough to not mess with the newborn king. Many had died before him and he, by all means, would not become another fresh organ decorating that antlers.

He muttered curses under his breath, sat against the wall, purposely withdrew a path for the two passing demons. He closed his eyes, pretending to be a sleeping drunk. But the footstep of the deer demon slowed down as they got closer, and eventually stopped right in front of him. The smell of blood was suffocating.

“Oh my god! Is that a bird? A cat? A bird cat?” The girl voice dropped the previous conversation, suddenly became loud and excited, almost shouting beside him. The sentence stroke through his eardrum with the hint on the closeness of the demons. Husk opened his eyes, pissed—and immediately turned to frightened when he found himself staring at Alastor, the radio demon and the newborn king, eye-to-eye. 

Alastor bowed to meet his gaze. Their noses almost touched. He could see the pale reflection of himself inside Alastor’s eyeballs. Witness from a distance would even say they were kissing.

The first reaction was a swing of his right claw. His claws were pointy, normally he used them to stab holes on kidneys or dig out hearts, but the distance was too close for him to aim, so he intuitively lifted his claws to form a defense position, tried to daunt the crazy deer away.

The deer demon caught the right claw singlehanded. His wrists screamed prickling pain like he just nailed them with a hammer.

The demon didn’t flinch. He didn’t even blink. Fuck.

Acknowledged the power gap between them, Husk decided to run. But his right claw was in another demon’s grasp, like a mouse in a fucking bear trap. He was totally pinned by this son of bitch with just one hand. What the hell.

Curses and threatening growls corked his throat, he opened his mouth to say something, anything that could possibly distract the radio demon and free himself from his fingers. Nothing came out. His brain was dead blank under the pressure of glowing dial pupils and noisy signals. Breathing became a struggle, everything around him was refreshing, glitching like in a crushed old TV. The antlers filled his sight with absolute darkness, crawled over his face, soaked his sanity.

He almost saw his own spirit before the demon finally retreated, dials restored to red ovals within few blinks, antlers shrank back to decorative branches. The world was colorful and stable again. He let go of Husk’s claws and Husk leaned back to the wall, tried to resemble his strength and figure out what the fuck was going on.

The demon gave no explanation of what he was doing—of fucking course—and offered him a hand, as if it was a goddamn tradition to scare the hell out of someone before introducing himself with a fucking smile, “Bonjour my friend! Alastor, so glad to meet you.”

Husk just stared at him, terrified and infuriated. 

“What the fuck is this?” He opened his mouth, and all those swear words came out like pouring water. He shoved the hand to the side, seized the asshole by his collar and aimed his fist to the his face, “Are you fucking shitting me with one of those radio tricks? Because I’m not buying it you motherfucking piece of…”

The asshole just smiled; it was so disgusting that he wanted to punch that smile on the teeth. Then he felt a light drag from his wings. No I will not step into another filthy trap you stupid…

“Hey kitty! Can you fly?” The girl giggled behind him. He couldn’t help but looked back and saw her little claws stroking through the feathers. 

“Fuck off kiddo, keep your hands to yourself.” He impatiently waved the girl away, recomposing his threatening speech towards the horned jerk. He was still grinning. What the fuck.

“How intriguing,” The jerk spoke with an irritating impressed voice. (Seriously, how can a demon talk in peace with his collar grabbed?) Glitters shined in the deer demon’s pupils, like a five-year-old first saw his birthday gift, “you would rather fight me than bully the lady. Ah, what a perfect candidate for my team!” 

Shocked by the expression and the tuned up radio voice, Husk released his grasp on Alastor’s collar. The train of thoughts was cut in half and collapsed into relics of curses. What the fuck did you just say? He wanted to ask, but was too confused to say anything.

“Also, Niffty, don’t touch a gentleman’s wings without his permission, that’s rude. Capisce?”

“Aye aye, captain!” 

While talking to Niffty, Alastor elegantly neatened his collar and snapped himself clean. The second he assured the tidiness of his cloth, he seized and shook Husk’s right hand with too much passion, “I’ve been looking for a suitable tutor for my little lady and a loyal partner for myself for a long time, and look what I found! A brave owl with the boldness to challenge the authority and a clever mind to stay out of trouble, couldn’t dream any better.”

Yet Husk stared at him in dumbness.

“So what do you say? Should this outstanding owl join the course of entertainment and uplift himself to the sky? I don’t see why not!” The radio voice buzzed around him as Alastor circled around Husk, like a thousand honeybees humming inside his head, giving him a screaming headache. He started to think all of this is just a hangover illusion, an aftereffect of that ass-kicking cocktail he gulped down last night. 

But no, he’s not crazy enough to imagine a red suit clown chatting around him with a stupid microphone-looking thing in his hand. Wait, where the fuck did he pull that out?

The microphone was pointing to his mouth now, as if the demon was waiting for his answer. The motherfucker looked exceptionally sane with his monocle and suit free of blood, he might even say Alastor was a ringmaster of some shit despite the fact that he just intimidated Husk with his freaking deer form.

What should he say? Thanks for scaring the hell out of me and mocking me like one of your fucking puppets? Sorry but no because I’m not a fucking psycho like you?

“Go fuck yourself.” He finally murmured, pushed the deer demon to the side, headed out of the alley.

The radio demon didn’t stop him, but his damn good ears involuntarily picked up the deep sigh from his back, “Such a pity, I was about to pay whoever volunteered a lifetime beer.”

The footstep stopped.

“…Say what?” With his back facing the owl, the deer grinned in silence.

……

As it turns out, what the deer really wanted was a babysitter so he could pierce demon brains without covering the girl’s eye (which is unnecessary because she saw them anyway). He brainwashed every owner of the bar so they forgot all about Husk, let Husk drink as much as he wanted. He left the girl with Husk before starting another bloodbath.

Niffty was attentive and lovely, enough said. The problem was, Husk was everything but a good babysitter. Niffty didn’t learn anything she should learn at her age, like how to calculate 3+2 or how to draw a fine apple; instead, she can recognize the brand and even the manufacturer of a vodka by simply smelling it. She cannot recognize the difference between triangles and rectangles, but she can tell which parts belong to which demons by examining their bones and skins and vessel fragments. 

Well, he taught her fine in some way. Not a good way though.

He also accompanied Alastor in some of his territorial fights. He shouldn’t say it’s fun because it’s disrespecting the dead demons in the fight, but it was exciting. He loves the feeling of adrenaline pumped in his veins, blood ignited, burnt him alive, and everything else except his target vanished from his sight. Nothing is more stimulating than watching the enemies whine and struggle till their last breath. Gambling and fighting were two of the quickest ways to raise the hormone level, drinking is more of a substitution.

Alastor eventually discovered the secret he tried to hide: he hated his wings. It seemed very reasonable considered that he was a human before he died. Who can wake up and peacefully accept the fact that they just magically turned into a fucking cat with a fucking pair of wings? He cannot, at least. What should he do with wings anyway? They were vulnerable, burdensome, cannot grasp nor fist something as claws. Even more pathetic was that there was no flying 101 course in hell so he didn’t even know how to fly! He even thought about cutting them off, but gave up because the hospital in hell had no license.

Obviously Alastor didn’t give a shit about Husk’s distaste to his wings. 

“Husky!*” Alastor shouted in joy as they were running away from thousands of furious nibbles chasing their tails, “Time to show them your fabulous flying skills! I’ll see you on the other side!” He saluted at Husk with his abominable smile, disappeared in his sight with a finger snap, as usual.

“Fuck!” Husk huffed. He was desperately aware that he cannot throw off the crazy nibbles unless he fly, which he had no idea how to. What’s worse was the bottomless cliff he ran towards. Was Alastor intentionally leading him this way? Must be. He feasted on other demon’s suffering.

No time to think, he jumped from the cliff, unskillfully swang his wings as hard as he could. Miraculously but rationally, he violated every physics law and stayed in mid-air with his wings wielding in different pace. He was far heavier than his wings, it made no sense, but he flew anyway.

Newton would cry seeing this, he absently thought. Nibbles halted at the edge of the cliff, creamed angrily as he flew further.

The seemingly horrifying cliff became familiar and shallow in his eyes. Husk couldn’t stop himself from waving his wings, rising high above the ground and overlooked the whole giant pentagram.

It was…breathtaking. Roads and streets strictly planned to form a gigantic star-shaped magic field that glued the city from being tore apart by countless earthquakes. Magic symbols and patterns had never been so visible. He could even tell the locus of the power and the flow of every demon from the allocation of the buildings. Himself, comparatively, was tiny and feeble as a drop of water sinking in the river of sinful spirits. Everything he did became insignificant and small, buried in the past of this beautiful world.

Was this the view Alastor saw everyday? 

Unbelievable.

“That was quite astonishing my dear! Maybe next time I can tie you to a sled and we can play Santa Claus!” Alastor’s teasing sound hit him in the back, Husk turned and non-surprisingly saw that son of bitch floating behind him, teeth bared, apparently enjoying the show.

He responded him with two middle fingers and an audible “F***U”.

……

He is no longer hesitant to use his wings after that day. 

He still hates that deer-head bastard who never cease to annoy him with new troubles. He’s not his servant for hell’s sake, he just doesn’t want the girl to be homeless again if that shameless bastard accidentally got himself killed. Niffty deserves better.

So yes, he saved the ass of that infamous jerk numerous times, but that jerk is indeed the demon who brought him up to the sky and changed him entirely. He can call it a square.

Either way, he will fight with him, for as long as he lives.

Ch. Husk END

*Husky also stands for strong and burly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the time settings of Niffty and Husk chapter, Alastor just fell to hell.  
He would behave in a younger, immature and genuine manner because he was still finding his position in the food chain.  
I think he already found his place in hell at the time he met Charlie.
> 
> I beta this chapter this morning.


	3. Charlie

Charlie is seriously thinking about calling mom again to fix this madness.

But no, that would defeat the purpose of this hotel and prove her dad’s point of view. Out of consideration.

But how the hell is she gonna fix those gigantic holes in and out of the hotel and the enormous fight at the first floor that had clearly been going on before she woke up?

Yes, the hotel was open for business. And yes, Alastor was here to help. But Alastor cannot be anywhere at once, he had things to do. And when he had things to do, Husk came with him, leaving three vulnerable female staffs, two cute but weak servants (Razzle and Dazzle, her loyal assistants), and one lazy male patient—who is apparently trying to escape and have some drugs—at the hotel to look over the guests. 

Unfortunately, not all the guests were friendly. When Alastor was around he could handle them with a snap of finger (literally and metaphorically), but with his absence everything just went wild. Many of the demons who came here were not looking for a place to redeem themselves; they were just looking for a place to sleep and eat for free, as she propagated that through the broadcast. And when they had disagreements, there’s really no way stopping them from killing each other. It was the fourth fight this week, and it’s only Wednesday.

Vaggie, Niffty and she were barely strong enough to protect themselves. Angel…let’s not mention his name. He would probably keep asking other demons for a handful of drugs and trade them with his body if they didn’t restrain him.

Alastor would provide the fund to rebuild the hotel and damage infrastructures. But when will it end? What’s the point of letting them stay if she cannot control and discourage their sinful behaviors? The hotel was built for them to be separated from the chaotic society and refresh themselves, not to group them together and have barbaric battles. 

She had started to think all of this is a bad idea. This hotel was a bad idea, her speech on TV was a bad idea, and the belief of happiness was definitely the worst idea of all.

Yes, she may be a little bold, but she’s not blind or stupid. She knew how people may see her speech as a joke, but she did it anyway. She sincerely believed in redemption and happiness, and had the ambition to spread her belief to all her future citizens. She could feel the agony and despair inside every demon when he or she was subjected to extermination. She believed the feeling is mutual between that demon and his families, friends, and lovers. Bitter tears slide down their faces, they cried and begged as the spear stabbed their dearest one on the heart. Executers left, they kneeled beside the lifeless body, weeping, trying to wake it up, but the demon they prayed at will never open its eyes. 

No one deserved to be treated like that. No one deserved to lose their love ones. It’s cruel, almost tyrannical to kill someone for the good of everyone else. Her father murdered millions of innocent demons per year just to control the population growth in hell—in no way could she stand for that. There had to be a better solution. There’s got to be a way that can save those precious individuals from the fate of death.

With that faith in mind she built the hotel. Yet three times she tried, three times she failed. No one cared about what she said, no one followed her violence-free policy, and no one showed even a single sign of redemption. War always broke out at the end.

People were not so violent the first day Alastor left, possibly due to the dried bodies hanging outside the hotel (belong to those reckless fools who dared abuse her in Alastor’s watch). But soon they decided to hurt each other for fun. She tried to calm each side of the battle down by giving them each a bag of cotton candies and fluffy toy ponies. Civil wars were then provoked based on their diverse tastes on candy and colors of ponies. She had three guests hurt that day. The carpets and walls were stained by blood.

She locked them into different rooms of hotel the second day and let them watch cute kitty movies. It resulted in a massive verbal dispute across the corridors, demons cursed each other for not supporting their favorite kitty. Verbal dispute eventually led to physical dispute within few hours. She had seven guests severely hurt that day. Numerous pictures and drawings fell down and broke, glass fragments scratched Niffty’s fingers.

The third day she published a policy that anyone who curse or hurt others will be suspended from the lunch. It seemed to work during daytime, but not anymore when Angel stole the key to the front door and fled during dinner. Vaggie had to go out and catch him, leaving her armless and helpless. When the alarm sounded, she had to shift into demonic form to catch those room breakers. She caught them all, but Niffty, Razzle and Dazzle were too small to intervene the fist fights in the corridors. She had three guests killed that day. She slept in exhaustion and tears.

All of them were frazzled after three days of intensive hotel services, included resolving multiple conflicts, fixing holes and broken furnitures, and keeping an eye on every guest in case they escape or commit crimes. But no matter how many times they tried to rehabilitate those sinners, they failed in the end. Charlie has no energy to stop the escapers this morning, she even had a hard time keeping her eyes open and not fall asleep on the way to the bottom floor. The sleepiness must have done something to her, because she felt an unreasonable sense of relief when she walked down the stairs in the deafening explosions and saw the entrance being tore into unrecognizable pieces.

Seemingly her father was right. There’s no way besides the demonstration of absolute power that could shut them down. If she can just get in touch with mom…

The second she decided to pull out her phone, every demon in her sight froze in action. The continuous sound of explosion stopped as well. Charlie numbly looks around, massages her temple, tries to get rid of sleepiness and figure out what happened.

“Looks like you had a stressful time during my absence.” A familiar voice wakes her ears as a red figure appears at hotel’s front door (or what’s left of it after the first explosion). Rhythmic footstep stops at the front desk, few clicks on the keyboard, as if the owner of the voice is viewing those miserable monitor recordings in the past. Charlie is busy stroking her eyes to get a clearer vision.

“They never learn, don’t they?” The figure speaks again, sounded a little distorted but is still audible. Charlie blinks her sore eyes in daze, sluggishly turns to the source of both the voice and the time-stoping trick. It’s obvious that whoever asked the question is in a quiet state of rage: the tone is still elegant but no longer peaceful, pitch rises slightly. The eyes are glowing—burning, the hidden anger boils and flares like blazing lava pool in a volcano. The smile is standard as usual, but seeing it somehow gives her head-to-tail goose bumps.

He meets her eyes in silence. He slowly raises his left hand to a snapping gesture.

Alastor. He comes back. 

And is very, _very_ irritated.

……

They settle at the front lawn of the hotel to barbecue their breakfast. No, the meat is from the supermarket, not that of her guests, though Alastor suggested eating them with abnormal enthusiasm.

Razzle and Dazzle are running around the grill, playing with Niffty, laughing. They are relieved of their duty and are currently enjoying their paid vacation—it was indeed a stressful three-day chaos, they all need some rest. Vaggie is sleeping on the sofa they managed to dig out from the wreck of hotel. She’s been chasing Angel for a whole night and is dying without a proper nap. Angel is tied to a tree near the grill, six hands strapped together by a thick rope. He looks very unhappy and is struggling to unleash himself, but his mouth is sealed as well so no one pays him attention. Husk is flying in and out of the ruins, trying to find an unbroken bottle of champagne. He was as pissed as Alastor when he came back, tried to poke holes through those poor guy’s kidneys—which was also called off by her. Charlie collapses on one of the few remaining chairs, drinking coffee, dumbly watching Alastor as he skillfully flips the beaf above the flaming coal while repairing the hotel with black tentacles.

Long story short, Alastor dealt with everything beautifully. Charlie had to stop him from throwing all the guests to another dimension or disincorporating them to feed the tentacles when she saw tentacles tried to drag the bodies through the portal, but despite that he solved her problems without a word. Guests are brainwashed and teleported to the streets, what’s left of the hotel is slowly coming back together with the help of tentacles.

Everything is back to normal now. She can start again and try some new methods this time.

…No. The hotel is ruined. The guests are gone. She fails everything. What’s the use of starting over if she always fails in the end? She sees no point in this endless cycle.

“Alastor.” She opens her mouth after watching Alastor rebuilding the hotel for nearly an hour, “Can we have a talk?”

The radio demon seems a bit surprised, but still replies with hospitality, “Whatever you want, my dear.” 

He follows her to the back of the building, the area enclosed by the shadow of hotel. It is dark enough that she’s certain Alastor cannot see her facial expression.

Charlie stopped at the darkest corner of the area, back facing the radio demon. She’s been trying to compose her speech since the minute they met this morning. Coffee effectively sobered her up and she thought she is ready for this.

She apparently is not. But screw it, she’s gonna say it.

“Look. I don’t know why I’m telling you this, but…I sort of see your point now.”

“Which point?”

“Point that…some demons just can’t be redeemed.”

“Looks like someone just had a revelation over the past few days.”

Yeah, of goddamn course. Of course he would mock her. Why the hell did she think this was a good idea? She always thinks of the worst idea possible.

“Yes.” She says, gritting her teeth in resentment, clenching her fists, holding back her tears, “Satisfied?”

A suffocating period of silence. Tears escapes her eyelids as she silently brushes them off with her sleeves, constraining herself from sobbing out loud. Why, why had she always been a failure on everything—wrong dream, wrong friend, wrong time…

A sigh, and a word serenely reaches her ears, “No.”

Charlie blinks, stupefied and confused. What did he say? What-what does he mean, no?

“Charlie, I thought the world of you.” A warm gloved hand gingerly touches her forehead, gently brushes the messy hair to the back of her head, revealing her face. She raises her head, finally realizing the man standing right in front of her. 

To her surprise, Alastor’s smile isn’t sarcastic. It’s _compassionate_. A kind of emotion she thought he would never show. 

But that comes out of his mouth is not compassionate at all, “To be honest, I thought your idealism would survive longer than this.”

Anger bubbles in Charlie’s heart as she glares at one of the most dangerous demons in hell, yet unable to think of anything suitable to refute him. She didn’t expect her energy to burn out that quickly either. She didn’t expect her energy to burn out at all. 

“I figure that you must be very disoriented and puzzled right now, wondering why your plan did not work well.” Alastor calmly settles Charlie down on the chair he just teleported to this place, looks at her in the eye, “Do you want to hear some of my opinions?”

She sees only sincere in that red pupils, so she nods.

“We all have a natural tendency to rationalize our failure into something noble.” Alastor speaks in a slow and articulating voice, the very same way Charlie spoke to those nasty guests—like talking to a five-year-old about the limit on his daily candy intake—as if he is afraid that Charlie cannot understand his words. Charlie stops weeping, regulating her breath, listening to Alastor’s speech as earnest as she can.

“Let’s put it this way: a truly determined demon would not hesitate. He would stumble, for sure; but there are only two states to him: success, or on the road to success. Failure does not exist in his dictionary.”

“Why? Because he faithfully believes what he does is right from the beginning to the end. He would fight for it, die for it, and achieve it for whatever it takes.”

“If you failed, it can only mean one thing: what you’re searching for isn’t what you had in mind. You’re asking for something else, and your assumed goal is but a step you took to achieve your real goal.”

“What is my real goal?” Charlie asks with eagerness.

“The real goal is usually unsayable. It’s hidden in the deepest corner of our mind, and normally we wouldn’t think about it. It relates to our most primitive desires.”

“Think, my dear, really think. What exactly led you to this path?”

……

“Charlie, you know I love you, but things cannot be solved just because I love you and I’m the queen of the hell.”

“If you want to change this world, you’ll have to walk outside the house and truly see it. You’ll have to meet it, talk to it, and know exactly what you’re up to.”

“After that, you may come back and make your decision once again. If you still insist on your choice by then, I’ll reconsider your suggestion on the policy.” The phone beeped, then hanged up.

She remembered the conversation her mother and she had few months ago.

What exactly drove her to this road? She recalled it now. She just had a fight with her dad that day. She was crying, seeking her mom for help. She asked if she can make amendments on the policy of hell, namely the extermination policy. Her mother didn’t say yes, but didn’t refuse either. Instead, her mom wanted her to make a plan first, a plan that proves the redemption possible. She was so ardent and so obsessed with her dream. She made a plan full of rainbows and ponies and happy hotel, blindly believed that they would solve all problems as fairy tales told her so. All demons in the fables ended in happiness with the companies of cute puppies, she didn’t bet the differ.

What was her real goal? Her real goal hid at the beginning of the story, right at the time when she and her dad just had a fight about her dreams. 

She had always been a failure to him. She wanted to impress him with something he had never done and show him her unparalleled ability and strength.

She just wanted to tell him and her mother…hey, your daughter is not a shame.

Deep inside, she just wanted to make her parents proud.

Was it wrong? 

No. It had just been…misinterpreted. She thought she was fighting for a lofty course, an honorable goal for all demons, while all she had in mind were ways to compete with her father. She betrayed her dream at the very start.

How ignorant and selfish.

……

She stares at Alastor, clear-minded. Alastor sees her answer from her eyes, smiles in understanding, “Thought it through?”

“Yeah.” She hesitates for a moment, but decides to express her gratitude out loud, “Thanks for pointing that out for me.”

“So what’s in your mind now, my dearest little princess? Do you want to keep going or come back to your palace?” The demon tilts his head, shrugs his shoulder, “Either way is fine for me, but I’ll be greatly disappointed if you choose the latter.”

“I’ll keep going.” Charlie says. Strangely, a strong sense of relief strokes through her heart, as if a colossal stone had just been removed from her shoulders.

“Even if that means disobeying and infuriating your father?” The radio demon examines her with speculation, “He will not give you applauses for this.”

“That doesn’t matter.” She stands up, no more sobbing. For the first time, what shine in her eyes are not compassion and hope, but courage and determination, “I’ll still fight for this hotel.”

“I know it’s ideal, difficult, almost impossible…but I’ll keep fighting for it.”

“Not because of my dad, but because it’s right.”

……

She and Alastor got closer after that day. Vaggie was confused and irritated by their relationship, kept asking her if he tricked her or made a deal with her. She said no. She just discovered that even the most dreadful demon can be heartwarming sometimes.

Vaggie stared at her as if she just swallowed an elephant.

Yes, Alastor is evil. But he supported and broadcasted her hotel. Without him hotel would not open. Even Vaggie cannot argue with that.

Whatever she does, Alastor helps. Charlie knows that he must have some hidden conspiracies and vicious plans behind his actions. Maybe all he does were a lie. Maybe she is but a tool he uses to reach his goal. But that kind of thought cannot stop her from feeling grateful towards the radio demon. He had done nothing to harm her, and she doubt he will ever do.

He is by far a reliable co-worker, a generous investor, a compassionate friend, a…

A supportive father she never had.

For whatever reason, Alastor protected her dream from getting ruined by her own hands. For that she would die for him.

Ch. Charlie END

*Charlie’s full name implies Charlemagne, or Charles the Great, the king who united the majority of western and central Europe during early middle ages according to wikipedia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s easy to encourage someone to pick up their work.  
It’s hard to convince someone what he or she does is worthwhile.  
I explored the idea from different directions before I wrote this chapter.  
At first I imagined a scene where Al encourages Charlie, but it’s too Out Of Character (Al would never do that! He’s an evil demon! He has standards!)  
And more importantly, Al doesn’t believe in Charlie’s redemption theory, so he cannot give her helpful suggestions, since that would be a lie and Charlie will not trust him.  
So I decided to let Charlie make her own decision. And as you can see, she’s magnificent.
> 
> I'll beta this chapter tomorrow, maybe.  
And, quick FYI, I wrote this chapter while listening to "Am I Wrong (Win & Woo Remix)."
> 
> Edited: don't know why I just got so many hits! Thank you guys for reading my works over and over! I'm flattered!


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